MOUNT MANSFIELD UNITARIAN UNIVERSALIST FELLOWSHIP

RENews April 2008

The whole purpose of religion is to facilitate love and compassion, patience, tolerance, humility, and forgiveness.

-The Dalai Lama

   I think we would have a hard time disagreeing with the above statement. Isn't it ironic, then, that religion can so often be a source of discord, disharmony, arrogance, and aggression? Why is that? How can principles that are meant to connect us with the best that is in us get so twisted that we lose sight of the original  inspiration?

   Perhaps one of the answers lies in the word " rigidity". Over time, we humans tend to get concretized in our thinking and encased in tradition. Once we think we have things figured out, we want to set our rules in stone and stand, immovable, on that solidity. This happens on an institutional level, but also occurs inside of us.

   I had an eye opening experience recently which revealed to me that I am even able to make my beloved Buddhist path into something that confines and constricts. From teacher Pema Chodron, I learned the value of open heart. This means aspiring to dissolve the barriers which guard us against life, against others, because these barriers which start out as a protective mechanism often end up as an isolating structure which hardens our hearts and keeps us from compassion. I loved this teaching, and vowed to live by it, applying it to all situations. I thought I had it all figured out. And then life through me the inevitable curve ball.

   Someone whom I love suffers from bipolar syndrome, and after every conversation with her, I feel knocked completely sideways. My inner wisdom has taught me to maintain certain interior boundaries to survive such interactions, but I was determined to bypass intuition and go into the situation with my heart wide open. The effect on me was unwholesome and long lasting, and I was completely muddled for days. It took awhile for me to understand where I had gone wrong. Conversations with my spiritual director and my spiritual mentor helped me to understand that the teachings are there to guide us, but we are also given intuition and reason to help us to respond to the special situations that may require a different approach. In my zeal to live my faith, I had forgotten that loving kindness must start with myself, and that in order to be responsive to others, I must first be respectful of my inner directives. As my teacher reminded me, this path is not an accomplishment; it's a process that continues to unfold.

   Brother Steindl Rast, an amazing Benedictine monk and teacher, talks about the need for long standing institutions like the Christian church to shake themselves free every once in awhile from the calcifying effects of time and tradition. That spark of divine clarity with which all great spiritual traditions start must be kept alive with space and fresh air and careful tending in order to keep it burning brightly. I've been spending a lot of time this past month studying the last days of Jesus in order to prepare for my Easter class with the children, and I understood the story in a whole new way. Here was a man who wasn't afraid to challenge the institutions of power that ruled his world, who had the courage to love the discarded and marginalized people whom his culture had left behind, and for these outrageous acts he paid with his life. I never before saw what a  revolutionary he was, how determined he was to shake people up and challenge " business as usual ". He exposed greed in all its forms for the corrupting evil that it is. Over and over, he taught that the most important job we have is to love one another, and that if rules get in the way of that, let go of the rules. To each new situation, he brought a fresh outlook and a deeply caring heart. No wonder billions of people have fallen in love with this man and still honor his teachings 2000 years after his death. As an ex-Catholic become UU Buddhist, I thought I had him all figured out, but I was wrong.

   May we have the wisdom to accept the fact that we will never have all the answers, may we make room for mystery, and may we be humble enough to keep on learning from whatever lessons life sees fit to send our way.

                                                       Your Friend,

                                                             Tess Starecheski,

                                                                    SRE of MMUUF

In some fairytales, there is a magic word which has the power to undo the spell that has imprisoned someone and free them. When I was small, I would wait anxiously until the prince or the princess stumbled on the formula and said the healing words that would release them into life. Usually the words were some sort of nonsense like 'Shazam.' My magic words have turned out to be “I don't know.”

-  Rachel Naomi Remen

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

Best wishes for a great day go out to:

Devyn 4-1-00        Gabe 4-9-99

Julia S. 4-15-00      Toby 4-24-97

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ALL FELLOWSHIP RE MEETING A GREAT HELP

Many thanks to all who were able to attend the meeting on March 30th. The R.E. Committee received much valuable feedback about important issues such as:

·   Paid vs. volunteer teacher model

·   Coming-of-age program

·   Teen Youth Group

·   Age groupings for next year's classes

The committee will process all this information and work hard to make recommendations to the Steering Committee which reflect your valuable responses. We’ll be meeting this Friday, April 4th at 7:00 p.m. at John's house if you'd like to share more with us.

Jenn chairperson                Karen

Jane                                         Sandra

                                                                                                                                                                                                           John                                         Tess

BOOKS TO GROW ON

From Tess:

The Last Week: What the Gospels Really Teach about Jesus’ Final Days in Jerusalem  by Marcus J. Borg and John Dominic Crossan, authors of The Historical Jesus

After performing endless rounds of "The Stations of the Cross" as a Catholic youngster, I thought I knew this story backwards and forwards. Boy, was I wrong. This book, although an impressive scholarly work, is also a riveting account of the world-changing collision between the mighty powers that ruled Israel 2000 years ago and a poor itinerant preacher from the backwater Nazareth. For the first time, I learned about his story in the context of the history, culture, and politics of his time. As UU’s, many of us discount our Christian heritage as something we've outgrown. But after reading this book, I came to feel that there are many recurrent themes in his teachings that still resonate with us today:

·   To question authority

·   To care for those who need our help

·   To treat all people fairly and kindly

I recommend this book to anyone who is ready for a fresh understanding of the beginnings of this ancient tradition.

SPRING IN THE NORTH COUNTRY

   I emerge from my house on the first day of spring, and the sound of water is everywhere. It runnels down the rain gutters and drips off the woodshed. The sun is steadily working to gently loosen the icy grip of winter, and the snow melts and returns to water, flowing joyously to join with the rushing river.

   I walk to the river, and the ice shelves which surround the living water in the center fold in and surrender to the will of the season. The voice of the river strengthens.

   As I drive by a local farm, I see milky clouds of steam billowing up from the sugarhouse, a sure sign of the rising hope of life returning.

   Children pour out of the school in a jubilant flood, jackets flapping and hats disregarded, intoxicated by the heady scent of mud.

   I drive home to hear my chickens doing their best to join the spring chorus of the wild birds who live alongside them. They squawk and strut, happily pecking at the bare patches of ground that are being revealed.

   My own body responds to the warming air. My shoulders drop down from their winter hunch, and my stride lengthens as I adjust to the absence of ice underfoot. My gloves come off, I loosen my coat, and inhale deeply, sniffing the air for any scent of green.

   Spring in the North Country is a cautious affair, and we have to look closely for the subtle signs, but we greet them with as much elation as any extravagant display.

                                                                                       - Tess Starecheski